Trigger
by kobiee
Summary: It was hard to e s c a p e the darkness in his heart. Train Heartnet reflects on the difficulty to pull the trigger. T to be safe.


Dedication to **smileydomino** her prize for finishing her first huge fanfic. And letting me help with the sequel.

This is Black Cat, her anime obsession at the moment. I'm having so much trouble writing, I could barely strangle a thousand words out.

**Edited January 9****th**** 2012- **God, what a mess my writing's become.

Well enjoy :)

* * *

_What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another? ~Alan Paton_

...

...

...

It's _simple_

It's _**easy**_

**3**

_2_

1

Pull the

**T**_**rigger**_

...

...

...

It might have been a sense of power that was unattainable any other way, or it could have been the simple need to see another writhing before you, to have others at your whim. But the control was fucking addicting. A surging sense of authority that only you held. Something that made you unique and special was the fact that you were a _heartless _killer, and it didn't bother you.

There were many components needed in assassinations. Your general efficiency altogether was the difference on the thin line that meant life or death. Whether it was your own or someone else's it didn't matter. Black Cat understood this, Chronos XIII understood this, but Train Heartnet found the moral dilemma fascinating.

He stood before a masquerade ball tonight, clad in a black trench coat and a small mask adorn with golden feathers, gun at the ready slung to his belt, just out of reach should his identity be exposed. The target this time didn't have a memorable name, just a renowned drug dealer with enough persuasion to become a threat, so he was sent to dispose of him. Train Heartnet weaved through the crowds with the easy grace of an alley cat, light on his feet and moving with an easy grace. Sharp golden eyes scanning the scene for any sign of foul play, apart from him of course.

And then the target appeared, and train didn't waste a second in phasing to meld with the darkness, the golden black revolver spinning in his skilled hands. Once, twice, thrice and it was thrust onto the victim's head. He could hear the victim's heart pounding in his chest, see the palms sweat and the babbling nonsense that spilled from his lips before he sucked in breath as Train started to speak.

"_I come to bring you bad luck."_

_..._

It was _simple_

It was _**easy**_

**3**

_2_

1

Pull the

**T**_**rigger**_

He sat on the roof top tonight, looking out over the oblivion of inky blackness above when a small little white fluff of fur nuzzled itself around the arm supporting his weight. He looked down on the little kitten and then to the bottle of milk he had reserved for later, he sighed and tipped the milk bottle into a saucer he usually kept lying about. While the cat lapped, he looked around, waiting for the singing that he usually heard at this time of the night. And right on cue, her silhouette visible through the arcs of the rooftops, black hair reflecting brightly against the moon.

"_Sekai no uta wo_  
_Dokomade ikou_  
_Sora wo aoide_  
_Hito no fubu goe_  
_Mushi no habatiki_  
_Fuwa fuwa fururin_  
_Omoi nosete"_

Let the _song_ of the **w**o**r**l**d**  
Travel _**forever**_  
Looking up to the _s k y_  
The _**s**_**o**_**u**_**n**_**d**_ of people talking  
Insects **j**u**m**p**i**n**g**  
Light **and **_**bouncy**_  
Taking my _h o p e s_ with it

The girl in the kimono. Saya had always been innocent. Teaching him how to free himself from the oppression of those who sought to manipulate him. So every time he heard her song, it became harder and harder, to take more lives. Knowing that he could be killing people with hidden hearts and beautiful as hers. Pulling the trigger became so much more difficult.

This woman had been blackmailing a member of Chronos and because of that Train was sent to assassinate her, he didn't know why, nor could he ask. Orders are orders. But as she ran through the maddening streets, only because Black Cat had allowed her to see him just once as a lingering shadow behind her form, she screamed bloody murder as she edged closer to her fate. She was running into the alley's dead end when he swept in, the light from the street lamps behind him shrouded his face in darkness, so all that could be seen were his hard heartless topaz eyes.

The woman wailed, but there was no one to hear her. Her dress was ripped and torn from where she had tripped and skidded the fabric along the floor, her brown tresses were a mess failing to cover her scared watering green eyes. They were exactly the same colour as Saya's. She quivered and screamed in the alley corner, a shrill shriek building its way into her throat. She was so helpless and scared, with tracks of tears running down her face that Train almost missed it when she bolted up and tried to sprint past him, succeeding.

She probably had family, someone to come back to with a loving husband and maybe even a kid, a daughter or a son that wanted to see that their mommy got home safe and sound. Even if she had been a manipulative bitch to get on Chronos' bad side, she might have a heart with some light inside, maybe a heart like Saya's. He could hear her heartbeat, a frantic rhythm that begged him to let her live, the cries of agony her pleas.

"_I don't wanna die!"_

He watched her retreating form. Soon she would be around the corner and not in shooting distance anymore. Would he regret letting the target go, just this once? She was a simple little matter that might have been taken care of by anyone else. They could do it without a second thought, without a second cold glance. But then he shrugged.

_Orders are orders._

His hands clenched against the grip of Hades, the hold simple and familiar. Shooting wasn't hard. He's been trained to shoot with the finest accuracy anyone else has even witnessed. So why did his hands shake as he raised Hades to point at her heart? Is it because he imagined it was Saya he had pointed the tool at?

"_I come to bring you bad luck."_

...

...

...

It's _complicated_

It's _**hard**_

The _**Black**_** Cat** found himself _h__**e**__s__**i**__t__**a**__t__**i**__n__**g**_

... but ...

**3**

_2_

1

_Force_ yourself **to**

Pull the

**T**_**rigger**_

...

...

...

It was **hard** to _e s c a p e_

The _d_**arkness** in his h_e_a_r_t

...

...

...

_What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another? ~Alan Paton_


End file.
